Breaking News
by SecretWriter2010
Summary: Samantha Norris is one of Gotham's yougest rising reporters. And now she has just recieved her biggest assingment yet. Finding out the true identity of Gotham's very own Batman. WARNING SPOILERS FROM THE DARK KNIGHT! PLEASE REVIEW! THANKS!
1. Chapter 1

I shifted in my black leather seat nervously. The bright overhead chandlers seemed to cast my long lean shadow across the entire marble floor. A tall blonde woman was seated behind a desk, typing away on her computer. Her long slender legs were visible underneath the dark mahogany desk, and seeing them made me instantly wish that I jogged more often. My own legs were revealed beneath my long pencil length skirt, but they weren't as slim as the secretary's.

Actually looking at this woman made me regret the fact that had ever stepped foot in this office looking like I did. At twenty-one I had long way chestnut hair that was currently swept up in a tight clip, while a pair of wire-rimmed glass were perched on the bridge of my nose. I only wore a little mascara to draw attention to my light gray eyes, and a hint of light pink lipstick. Secretary Barbie looked like she had her whole face painted on. My somewhat slim figure was clad in a grey pencil skirt and a white button up shirt that was covered by a matching gray jacket.

Compared to Miss USA over there I looked like a complete and utter train wreck.

I really needed to get up earlier instead of sleeping in until the very last second.

"Miss Norris, Mr. Wayne will see you now."

I jerked my head away from the plotted plant that I had been staring at for God knows how long, and up at the Barbie, who had just addressed me. Standing up from my seat, I smoothed out the wrinkles in my skirt, and slung my purse over my shoulder. My pumps clicked against the hard floor as I walked towards the two large wooden doors that led into Mr. Wayne's office.

With a shaking hand I grasped onto one of the brass door handles, and pushed. The first thing I noticed, or rather heard when I walked into Mr. Wayne's office, was the loud pulsating beat of some sort of music. I pushed myself farther inside and shut the door behind me. I scanned the office quickly, taking everything in. Every wall in the office was a fused glass panel that revealed a perfect view of Gotham City. There was a small sitting area with charcoal colored coaches and chairs. My attention finally shifted to the large cherry wood desk that sat in the center of the room.

Mr. Wayne was seated in a large black leather chair that at the moment was turned away from me. The phone on his desk was attached to his right ear, and he was talking in a low voice to whoever was on the other line. It was probably someone he was in the middle of a deal with. However, it was most likely his current flavor of the week. I stood by the door quietly, waiting for Mr. Wayne to take notice of me. My fingers aimlessly played with the small diamond ring that I wore on my left ring finger.

Suddenly, Mr. Wayne let out a low chuckle. I looked up just as he swiveled his chair back around to face me, the phone still pressed up against his ear. His eyes fell on me and the small smile that had been on his face vanished instantly. He whispered something to the person on the other line, before he slammed the phone back on his desk, the noise slightly startling me. I watched as he reached for a slim remote and turned off the music that had been playing lightly in the background. Once the music was off Mr. Wayne stood up from his chair, buttoning the first two buttons of his suit. He walked across the room, only to stop and take a seat on one of the charcoal couches.

"How can I help you Miss…" Mr. Wayne began, only to stop when he could not recall my name.

What an ass.

"Norris. Samantha Norris, Gotham Daily. I'm here to interview you about your recent donation to help build a new children's hospital here in Gotham City." I said, as I walked across the room and took a seat across from Mr. Wayne.

"Ah, of course. I've been very busy lately and the interview must have slipped my mind." Mr. Wayne lied, flashing me a small smile.

I did not return it.

"Shall we get this over with Mr. Wayne? I have to have the article ready for press by this afternoon." I stated, digging my tape recorder out of my purse, and setting it on the glass table between us.

"Oh, yes, of course. And please call me Bruce," He smiled, as he draped an arm over the side of the couch.

"So tell me, Mr. Wayne, about your latest donation to the children's hospital that will be built in the heart of Gotham city."

"Please, its Bruce, Mr. Wayne was my father, Samantha. Well here at Wayne Enterprises we believe that the children here in Gotham City are the future. We hope that someday our children will create a world, far better than the one that we live in now. Imagine a world without crime, without the problems that many citizens face everyday. There could be a child out there with a heart defect with the ability to reshape Gotham and make it a respectable place. Our future as a city is in the hands of nearly one million children, 34 of which have some sort of long term illness."

"When will ground be broken for the new hospital, Mr. Wayne?" I inquired, crossing my legs, and folding my hands across my chest.

Mr. Wayne let out a small chuckle, and locked his eyes on me.

"What is it going to take for you to say my name?" He asked, shaking his head at my mannerisms.

"I believe in respecting those who do such wonderful things for our city Mr. Wayne. Excuse me if it offends you." I said in a sicken sweet voice.

I truly did respect Mr. Wayne, even if he came off as a total asshole. Bruce Wayne was rich, young, and handsome. As the richest man in Gotham City, he gave a lot of money back to the rebuilding of the city and society. He even had a whole department focused on producing specialized items for the military. Bruce took control of Wayne Enterprise a couple of years, and now at the ripe age of thirty he had created an empire far greater than his father's.

On top of all his money and young life, Bruce Wayne was also very handsome. He had dark hair that seemed to curl slightly at the tips. His dark brown eyes showed strength and wisdom far beyond his age. Bruce was extremely tall and lean. Also, he doesn't look all that bad in a nice business suit. And did I mention that he has a pretty nice smile.

"Um…Do you have anymore questions, Miss Norris?" Mr. Wayne asked, snapping me out of my sudden daze.

"Oh, yes. I have just one more question. Is it true that you plan to hold a sort of event, like a cocktail gathering, with some the major companies in Gotham City, to help raise money for cancer and AIDS research?" I questioned.

"Yes, I'm planning to host it in the children's hospital, when it is completed. Further details about the event will be available closer to time." Bruce replied.

I nodded my head, and reached across the table and pushed the stop button on the tape recorder, before I put it back in my purse.

"Well thank you for your time Mr. Wayne." I said standing, and reaching my hand out for Bruce to shake.

"You're very welcome Miss Norris, or is it Mrs.?" Bruce inquired.

I was taken a back by his sudden question.

"I beg your pardon." I stated, looking perplexed.

"Well, you're wearing a ring on your left ring finger, and on my planner it said that a Miss Samantha Norris was coming to see me. So is it Miss or Mrs.?" Mr. Wayne asked again.

"It's Miss Norris. The ring was my mother's wedding ring. She gave it to me before she died." I whispered, looking down at the simple gold band, with a small diamond set in the center.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Mr. Wayne stated.

"It was five years ago, I've accepted it by now." I shrugged my shoulders, and grabbed my purse up from the couch.

"It was nice meeting you, Samantha."

"Likewise, Bruce."

I could hear Bruce let out a low laugh, as I walked out of his office. I passed by Malibu Barbie on my way out, and couldn't help but notice that she was filing her nails instead of typing away on her computer. Well Bruce Wayne gets what he deserves if he hires based on beauty instead of brains.

I made my way over to the elevators and pushed the down button. My foot tapped against the floor, as I waited for the two golden doors to open. A ping suddenly caught my attention, and I looked up just as the elevator doors opened. An elderly man in a crisp black suit and half spectacles stood on the other side. I stepped off to the side so that the old man could easily get off. He stepped out of the elevator, and I watched as he strolled cross the marble floor, and straight into Mr. Wayne's office without even knocking.

Stepping into the awaiting elevator, I pressed the button for the lobby. The doors closed, and the descent down began. I was never one for elevators. I actually greatly disliked them. This fear that I would one day plummet to my death in one haunted my dreams on certain occasions. A loud ping felled the small box, and I let out a sigh of relief that I had made it to my destination without incident. I hurried out of the confined place, my feet carrying me towards the doors that led to a world outside of Wayne Enterprises. A doorman on the other side opened the door for me, as I took in a deep breath of fresh air.

"Have a good day Miss," The doorman said, tipping his hat at me.

I smiled as I walked to the corner where I had parked my 1983 Oldsmobile Cutlass. Thrusting my key into the lock, I unlocked my car and threw my purse into the passenger seat before I climbed into the driver's side. I put my keys in the ignition, and my car came to life with a low roar. Putting my car in drive, I pulled out into the heavy downtown traffic, and started the thirty-minute drive to my office up town. I needed to get there as soon as possible so I can get my story typed up and ready for printing. And not making my boss angry was most defiantly another plus.

I looked over my shoulder to make sure it was clear before I pulled over into the turn lane. My eyes fell on Wayne Enterprise, and I couldn't help but notice how it loomed over all the other buildings. To me it almost seemed as if it was looking down on every other building, shielding them from the horrors that were inflicted on this dangerous city. And as I turned away from it, I couldn't help but feel like I was the most vulnerable person in all of Gotham City.

**A/N: Hey!! I would like to thank all the people that have read my story so far, and I would love to give a special thanks to all those who review!! This is my first Batman fan fiction, and I should warn you know there will be some spoilers in here from The Dark Knight!! So if you haven't seen the movie (which you really really should!! I went to the midnight showing, and waiting in line for 4 hours was totally worth it!!) Don't read. Also I would like to inform you all that I'll have some pictures on my profile from this story. For this chapter I have a picture of what I think Samantha should look like, her business suit, her mom's wedding ring, and her car. So go check out the pictures and please review!! Thanks everyone!!**

**xoxoxoxoxoxoxo**

**SecretWriter2010**

**p.s. sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes!!**


	2. Chapter 2

I read over my article one more time before I clicked the send button so the e-mail my story was attached to would go to my edi

I read over my article one more time before I clicked the send button so the e-mail my story was attached to would go to my editor. Closing my eyes I leaned back in my chair, relaxing for the first time in over two hours. It took a lot of time and effort to produce a good story that the public would be interested in. And I certainly had to do that with this article about Bruce Wayne, the Mother Teresa of Gotham. A small sigh escaped my lips. This had been one hell of a long day, and I still had the end of day meeting to attend to. Originally we did have morning meetings, but to many people, myself included, always wondered in late right in the middle of the meeting. So the editor decided that we would just have them right before we got off work.

"Hey Samantha. You get that story on Bruce Wayne's recent charitable act done?" My best friend and roommate, Joshua Clark, asked as he passed by my desk on his way to the meeting room.

"Yeah, it was the most interesting article I have ever had the privilege of writing." I replied sarcastically, rolling my eyes.

"Why can't I have your outlook on things? I just got writing a front-page article about the recent attacks made by the mafia on our local government. Burning buildings and loads of cash are so boring." Joshua said in a somewhat serious tone, but I knew he was only joking.

"Shut up, asshole," I responded, as I picked up my purse and jacket from the back of my chair, and followed Joshua into the meeting room.

"Hey, I am insulted that you would even refer to me as such a vile thing!" He stated shocked.

"Whatever," I responded, as we both took our seats next to each other at the end of the long boardroom table.

We were some of the first to arrive. Sabrina Harris was sitting next to Joshua, and she was currently applying more of her ruby red lipstick. Mike Wilson, the really creepy family time writer, was watching her do so.

"You want a cup of coffee?" Joshua asked, pointing his thumb over towards the small coffee pot over in the corner.

"Please," I answered.

Joshua pushed back his chair and headed over to get us both a well-deserved cup of fresh Joe. The two of us had been best friends for about three years now. He was a good five years older than myself. I met him when I first came to Gotham Daily fresh out of high school and working as a proofreader to support myself. Joshua had just received a degree for journalism and working for Gotham Daily was his first real job. We were both new here, and scared out of our minds. As the newbies on the block we both clung to each other for dear life, trying not to drown in this whirlwind that was journalism. Joshua had actually been the one that had got me promoted from my proof reading position to a semi-reporter when I turned nineteen. After two years of hard work I was starting to receive more worldly topics, instead of stories about old women and their ninety-nine cats. I owed Joshua a lot.

Which is why he is my current roommate. When I turned twenty he had asked me if I wanted to split a two-bedroom apartment that was only five blocks away from the office. I had agreed instantly, deciding that five blocks away from work and three hundred dollars for rent a month, was a fair exchange for me cooking and washing Joshua's dirty underwear.

"One cup of Columbia's finest, with two creams and four sugars." Joshua said, as he placed a steaming Styrofoam cup of coffee in front of me.

"And a spoonful of honey, right?" I questioned, picking up the warm cup.

"Of course."

I took a small sip, savoring the feeling of the scorching hot liquid burning the back of my throat.

"Perfect," I stated, turning my head to look at Joshua.

"It better be. I put my heart in soul into that cup of coffee."

"I can taste the love, soul not so much."

"Whatever," Joshua said, as he rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to what he had been writing on a legal pad.

I couldn't help but notice I wasn't the only person in the boardroom watching him do so. As the amount of people in this cramped space grew, so did the amount of stares from the female population.

To say that Joshua wasn't good looking would be blasphemy. He had the most gorgeous deep green eyes that were hidden beneath a pair of black-rimmed glasses. His long blonde hair, looked like that of a surfers with its natural high lights and unruliness. Joshua was extremely tall at 6' 2", and he had a considerable amount of muscle spread out all over his body. It also helped that he was a complete gentlemen to all the female workers in the office.

The sound of the door slamming shut brought me back to reality. I looked up just as our editor took his spot at the head of the table. At the age of thirty-two, Mr. Wilson Barren was the most hated editor in all of Gotham, he was rude, and could be very mean when it came to critiquing someone's work. There had been a few occasions where I had come very close to punching him when he pointed out something that he hated about one of my stories.

"Okay people, let's make this quick. I have better things to do then listen to your pathetic story pitches." Wilson shouted, as he took his seat. "Williams, how is that piece on Wayne Enterprise through the years going?"

I just have a few adjustments to make and then it will be ready for printing," Charles Williams responded.

"Good, Norris have you finished that piece on the children's hospital?" Mr. Barren asked, his gazing falling on me.

"I e-mailed it to you just before I walked in." I answered.

"Clark, you still working on that piece about the recent actions of the mafia?"

"I've had it done since this morning, Wilson. You already approved it." Joshua said dryly.

He really disliked Wilson.

"Okay now that the current articles are taken care of, what have you all come up with for future stories?" The editor asked, surveying the room.

"Well," Sabrina Harris began, as she flipped her hair over her shoulder. "I as thinking that maybe we could do an article on the latest fashions here and Gotham and how they have changed over the years. It will draw in more of the young female population."

"Good idea Sabrina, that will be your project for the next week. We'll feature it in the Sunday addition next weekend. What else is there?" Wilson asked.

"Sir, in light of the recent events that have unfolded in the last couple of weeks, we were thinking about having an in-depth investigation about Batman." Troy Ison stated, as he lounged back in his chair.

"Continue," The editor said, his attention focused on Troy and what he was saying.

"You see Gotham has this fascination with Batman. I mean one second he's saving us from near destruction, and the next he is killing five innocent citizens for no apparent reason. We want to find out whatever we can about him and try to figure out what makes him tick. Is he a Schizophrenic, or is he just a man driven to madness by the tangled webs he has weaved?" Troy lectured, a smug smile plastered on his face the whole time.

"I like where it's going Troy, but there's just one thing missing…" Wilson said trailing off.

"And what is that sir?" Troy asked, his eyebrows knitted together in anger.

"Well Troy, to figure out what makes Batman tick, don't you need to know who he is in our society. And most of people's fascination with Batman is based on the fact that nobody knows who he is. People are more likely to pick up a newspaper with the title, **BATMAN'S TRUE IDENTITY UNCOVERED**, than, **BATMAN: THE UNTOLD STORY**." Mr. Barren countered.

"I am not doing that story," Troy commented sternly.

"And why not?" Wilson questioned fixing his gaze on Troy.

"I am not running around in the middle of the night trying to find a mad man that has killed five other people. You can give the story to someone else," Troy, said crossing his arms over his chest and staring at Wilson sternly.

"Fine, who here is willing to take this story?" Wilson inquired his gaze fixing on the rest of us.

No one jumped up in excitement at the idea of stalking a man who could kill you with his bare hands. We were not stupid. I looked over at Joshua who was leaning forward his chin resting in his open palm. He looked bored out of his mind.

I wasn't going to lie this could be a good opportunity for me. If I uncovered the true identity of Batman, that would be a front cover story. And I wanted to write a jaw dropping cover story more than anything else in the world. I could break free of my shell, and move on to bigger and better things. I would no longer have to cover page seven news.

"I'll do it."

Every head in the room turned to stare at me as I raised my hand, and sealed my fate. I could hear Joshua's hand slipping from beneath his chin and hitting the table with a loud thud.

"Fine. Samantha you can take this story. You'll have three months before I expect that story on my desk." Wilson stated, as he shuffled some of the papers in front of him. "Everyone is free to go now."

We all stood up from or seats and clamored out of the tiny room. I swiftly pulled on my jacket and threw my purse over my right shoulder. Joshua was behind me, towering over my small figure. Together we made our way made our way out to the parking garage where I had parked my car only a few hours earlier. I unlocked the car and we both climbed in, myself behind the driver's seat. We sat in silence as I pulled out of the parking garage and headed in the direction of our apartment. Even though it was only five blocks away, the apartment usually took us ten minutes to get to in rush hour traffic.

I didn't have to look at Joshua to know he was mad. The evident silence was enough to warn me that he was not in a good mood. My knuckles were turning white as I gripped the steering wheel tightly, my car only moving a few inches through the thick traffic.

"What the hell were you thinking Samantha?" Joshua whispered, in a voice that was dripping with some serious anger.

"It's a good career opportunity," I stated, my eyes focused on the blue Volts Wagon rabbit in front of us.

"You won't have a career if you end up dead on the streets. The man killed five people, Samantha! Five innocent people that had their lives taken by that mad man! He was supposed to be a hero, but in the end he just caused my problems for Gotham! The mafia is getting greedy, now that they know that Batman is the police's main focus at the moment. The crime rate has gone up 10 in the last month alone." Joshua shouted at me, his voice rising with every word.

"You worry too much Joshua, I'm sure I'll be fine." I said in a reassuring voice, removing my right hand from the steering wheel, and grabbing a hold of Joshua's hand.

Joshua let out a sigh and turned to look at me for the first time since we had gotten in the car.

"You do realize I would be a lot madder at you, if you hadn't made reservations tonight for my favorite Italian restaurant." He smiled, at me and squeezed my hand.

"I know," I laughed.

We rode the last five minutes in a comfortable silence, before we pulled up to our apartment. I parked my car right next to Joshua's old Toyota, and together we walked up to our apartment. Once Joshua had unlocked our double-bolted door, I strolled in, dumping my purse and jacket on the bench right next to the door.

"What time is our reservation?" Joshua asked, as he hung up my discarded articles on the hooks they were supposed to go on.

"I made them for eight."

"That gives us about an hour to get ready. Is that enough time for you?" Joshua asked, a smile crossing his face.

"Yes, it is more than enough time," I said, giving him a rather dirty look.

"Sorry, I just had to ask."

"Whatever Joshua," I muttered, as I strolled into my room and slammed my door behind me.

Kicking of my black pumps, I threw them into the corner where I threw all my other shoes. The dress I was wearing tonight was already hanging on the doorknob of my closet door. I picked it up, and let the fluid black silk graze my hand, while my fingers traced the interrogate gold and white beading that was just below the bust line. Shrugging off my work clothes, I pulled my evening dress over my head, adjusting it where need be. For the rest of the hour, I spent my time applying my make- up and doing my hair in an elegant twist. Once that was all done I dug around my jewelry for the gold love knot earrings Joshua had bought for me last Christmas.

"Samantha are you done yet?" Joshua inquired as he knocked on my door lightly.

"Yep, all ready." I said, opening the door to an awaiting Joshua.

"You look nice," Joshua commented, as he offered me his arm, leading me out of the front door.

"Thanks. I figured I should dress up since we're celebrating." I stated.

Joshua laughed at that comment, as he opened the car door for me. I climbed in waiting for Joshua to do the same. He jumped into the driver's seat, and began to head us in the direction of his favorite resturant. When we pulled up to the little classy Italian place, a valet came to park our car.

"I didn't realize that my last days as a bachelor were worth celebrating." Joshua pointed out to me; after we had both ordered our dinner and were sipping on some champagne.

"You should enjoy the next two weeks of freedom, before you enter the only remaining legal form of slavery."

"Don't say stuff like that! I'm nervous about the wedding enough as it!"

"You're nervous! I'm sorry but you're not the one that has to deal with the breakdowns between now and the moment you step on that plane of Paris! She is already driving me crazy about the bridesmaid dresses! The colors are awful!" I ranted.

"Better you than me! Cleo is already breathing down my back about china! And getting the apartment ready before we leave for our honeymoon! I shudder to think what she's going to be like when she's pregnant and all hormonal!" Joshua countered.

"Sometimes I want to murder you in your sleep for recommending me for maid of honor."

"Well you're the only one that can keep Cleo calm, and me level headed." Joshua said, smiling at me.

"It's going to be so weird living in the apartment by myself." I stated in a sad voice.

"Hey," Joshua reached across the table and clasped my hands in his. "I'll still come over every Sunday so that we can watch football together.

"Promise?" I asked wiping a stray tear with the back of my hand.

"I promise," Joshua pledged, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze.

Our hands remained clasped until our dinner arrived. We talked lightly about how Cleo's internship at Gotham General was going, and how Joshua hated the shade of red Cleo had insisted on painting the bedroom. We decided to split a piece of chocolate cake for dessert. I was laughing at Joshua's chocolate mustache when I heard it.

The faint sound of someone calling my name.

I turned to see the person I least expected walking over towards our table.

**A/N: I OWN NOTHING, EXCEPT MY OWN CHARACTERS! ON MY PROFILE I HAVE A PICTURE OF SAMANTHA'S DRESS. I BET YOU GUYS ARE WONDERING WHO OUR MYSTERY VISITER IS! WELL YOU'LL HAVE TO REVIEW TO FIND OUT!**

**XOXOXOXOXOX**

**SECRETEWRITER2010**


	3. Chapter 3

"Gordon

"Gordon!" I shrieked as I pushed back my chair and ran into the waiting arms of police commissioner Jim Gordon.

"Hey kiddo, I haven't seen you in ages!" Gordon exclaimed as he engulfed me in a hug.

"I've missed you Gordon." I said happily as I pulled away from his warm fatherly embrace.

"Me too. But you're not the same freckled face shrimp I remember. You've grown into a mature and respectable young lady." Gordon complemented me.

"And I see that you've laid off the doughnuts and coffee." I remarked, elbowing him in the ribs.

"Well I had to keep in shape so I could still chase down the bad guys." He joked, elbowing me back.

"So you're still on the force?" I asked, a smile permanently plastered to my face.

"Going on twenty-five years. But enough about me, why don't you introduce me to your boyfriend, or is it husband?" Gordon asked, looking over at Joshua who was looking at us confused.

"Neither." I stated, as I dragged Gordon back over to our table. "Gordon, this is my best friend Joshua Clark. Joshua, this is my godfather, police commissioner Jim Gordon."

"It's an honor to meet you sir," Joshua commented, as he extended his hand, which Gordon shook vigorously.

"Its nice to meet you too son. And I assume that you are watching over for my favorite godchild?" Gordon inquired.

"I do the best that I can. Considering that Samantha and near death experiences go hand in hand." Joshua gave me a dark look.

"Are you still mad about the article?" I questioned glaring over at Joshua.

"Yes I am still very mad about the article! You'll have to put yourself in danger, maybe even get close to the mafia! I can't believe you would even consider doing that, especially after what happened to your parents!" Joshua said in a deadly whisper.

"What have you gotten yourself into now Samantha?" Gordon asked in a stern voice, his eyebrows forming a worried line.

"You wanna know what she's gotten herself into! She has decided that she will personally discover the true identity of that manic, Batman, so she can plaster his name all over the newspaper! She's looking for a sure way to get herself hurt!" Joshua shouted at me.

"Samantha," Gordon began, his voice filled with worry. "Have you lost your mind?"

"No Gordon, I have not lost my mind. Now can we please just drop it? Both of you worry about me way too much. I'm not as breakable as you all think."

"Fine, we'll finish this discuss at home." Joshua told me, his gaze softening slightly.

"So have you been working on any interesting cases lately Gordon?" I questioned, my attention focused fully on Gordon.

"Well now that we have the Joker locked up, things have been what could almost be considered quite. However we have a few run in know and then with the mafia. Right now our main focus though is capturing Batman." As soon as those last words left Gordon's mouth, I knew he wanted to take them back.

"Gordon, what all do you know about him?" I inquired, as I rested my head on fingertips.

"Samantha," Joshua growled warningly.

"Wouldn't you rather I knew who I was dealing with instead of going into this investigation blind?" I snapped at Joshua.

"I would rather you not do it all!" Joshua retorted.

He was really starting to piss me the hell off.

"Well, I'm not really at liberty to discuss anything about the case with you, but my only advice is he is not the sort of man he presents himself to be." Gordon explained.

"He is not the sort of man he presents himself to be." I repeated Gordon's word's, taking them to memory.

"Exactly," Gordon stated, smiling at me.

"Gordon what are you doing here anyways? I don't see Barbara or the kids." I asked.

"I'm meeting someone from Wayne Enterprise's to discuss the generous donation they are making to the Gotham's finniest." He answered.

"That's wonderful! You guys don't get enough credit!" Joshua said.

I could tell he was going to want to make an appointment with Gordon for an interview.

"It is isn't it? We can finally have enough money to hire some new guys, and the old guys can get a well deserved raise." Gordon laughed.

"You deserve a raise Gordon, especially after the ordeal you endured this year." I reached forward and gave his hand an encouraging squeeze.

"Speaking of enduring, how is your old man doing?" Gordon did not have a smile on his face as he asked me this question.

The mood at the table changed dramatically at the mention of my father. The smile that had been plastered on my face fell, and I could see Joshua's jaw line tighten.

"Fine, the last time I saw him." I whispered my eyes trained to the gold and white tablecloth.

"That's good to hear." Gordon said in a warm tone.

We sat in an uncomfortable silence. My father was not a topic that warmed the very depths of my heart. If anything it made my heart feel like it was going to combust, along with my brain. Our awkward silence was broken by the sound of someone approaching us, calling out Gordon's name.

I looked up, only to wish that I hadn't, because walking into the restaurant, a girl flanked on each arm was Bruce Wayne himself.

"I thought you said you were meeting one of his people!" I hissed at Gordon.

"I thought I was too." Gordon confessed, as he stood up to welcome Mr. Wayne.

This was great, just great.

"We need to leave, now!" I mouthed to Joshua with great urgency.

Bruce Wayne was the last person I wanted to deal with at the moment. With his snotty rich guy attitude and his harem of girls, I didn't know what would control me from slugging him square in his beautiful face. I grabbed my purse as Joshua hastily paid for our bill. Gordon and Bruce were a few feet a way chatting quite animately about something.

Good, he hadn't noticed me yet.

"Mr. Wayne there is someone I would like to introduce you too." Gordon said, as he turned towards us.

NO GORDON! PLEASE GOD NO!

"This is my godchild Samantha Norris." Gordon pointed me out to Mr. Wayne, and his tag a longs.

THANKS A LOT GORDON!

At first I was hoping that Bruce Wayne wouldn't remember me. I could see the confusion in his eyes as he tried to figure out where he had seen me before. But then I could see it recognition hit him. The smile on his face grew wider, much to my dismay.

"I almost didn't recognize you without the grey suit and glasses, Samantha." Mr. Wayne said in what he believed to be a charming voice.

"And I almost didn't recognize you without your phone pressed to your ear, Mr. Wayne," I countered, sarcasm apparent in my voice.

"Always so respectful, even though you're not on the clock. We could use someone like you at Wayne Enterprises."

"I'm sorry but I am not interested in being one of your many female employees." I spat.

Bruce Wayne knew how to rube me the wrong way.

"Suit yourself, but the offer will still be on the table, incase you change your mind."

"So Mr. Wayne shall set down and talk business," Gordon asked, trying desperately to save him from my boiling anger.

"In a second. Samantha still hasn't introduced me to her friend." Bruce Wayne said, his eyes fixed on Joshua, who looked pissed.

"Joshua Clark," Joshua introduced himself, his hand held out to Mr. Wayne.

"Bruce Wayne. You're Samantha's boyfriend I presume?" Bruce questioned, taking Joshua out stretched hand.

I stood there biting my lip hoping Joshua would just nod his head and not try to blow this out of proportion.

"Husband actually," Joshua lied.

My body tensed up as those words spilled from his mouth. Mr. Wayne already knew I wasn't married. I was going to kill Joshua when we get home.

"Really, how long have you two be married for then?" Bruce inquired, his eyes fixed on me.

"Would you believe that we're celebrating on one year anniversary today?" Joshua joked, putting his arm around my waist and pulling me towards him.

"No not really, considering Miss Norris has already informed me that she is not married, and I saw your wedding announcement to Dr. Cleo Brooks in the newspaper the other day." Bruce Wayne stated, a smug smile on his face.

"Joshua is my best friend and roommate. He tends to be a little over protective." I explained, glaring at Joshua when I added the last part.

"Best friend is more believable than boyfriend," Bruce commented, a small smile tugging on his lips.

"What's that suppose to mean," I snapped.

"It's just you don't look like the type who wastes their time dating." Mr. Wayne explained.

"And you call "this" dating!" I shrieked pointing to the two blondes he had on either side of him.

"No, I call this good company," He retorted.

"You make me sick." I muttered my eyes locked on his.

"Likewise Samantha," Bruce said, a smile on his lips.

And then I lost it. I grabbed my semi-full glass of red wine from dinner, and threw it in Mr. Wayne's face. The bright red liquid stained his white shirt and black jacket. The blondes looked outraged, at the fact that a few droplets had splattered on their dresses. I slammed the wine glass back on the table, grabbed my purse and stomped out of there in a huff. But not before I heard Mr. Bruce Wayne's laughter fill the air.

**A/N: I KNOW THAT THIS CHAPTER MAY SEEM BORING, BUT I NEEDED IT FOR SOME BACK GROUND INFO. FOR LATER CHAPTERS. AND I WANTED TO INTRODUCE GORDON!! NOBODY GUESSED THAT HE WAS OUR MYSTERY GUEST FOR THE EVENING. I PROMISE THAT THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE REALLY EXCITING WITH A BUNCH OF THINGS BLOWING UP AND ALL THAT FUN STUFF. ALSO I WAS KIND OF WANTING YOUR OPINION ON SOMETHING. I'VE BEEN DEBATING WHETHER OR NOT I SHOULD HAVE PART OF THE STORY IN BRUCE WAYNE'S POINT OF VIEW. SO SHOULD I KEEP IT ALL SAMANTHA OR MIX IT UP A LITTLE? WHATEVER THE MAJORITY OF YOU THE READERS WANT, IS WHAT YOU'LL GET. SO PLEASE REVIEW WITH YOUR OPIONIN! THANKS!**

**XOXOXOXOXOXO**

**SECRETWRITER2010**


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